


Everyone Hates Small Chests

by Pastel Comma (Regina_Hark)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Because of Reasons, Belly Expansion, Bondage and Discipline, Breast Expansion, Delicious Flat Chest, Dubious Consentacles, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Inspired by Fanfiction, Interspecies Sex, Monster sex, Monsters- Mimics, Other, PWP, Predator/Prey, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Soft Vore, Spanking, Tentacle Sex, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:30:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9235205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regina_Hark/pseuds/Pastel%20Comma
Summary: Small chests are said to summon all manner of hatred and scorn. Men loathe them. Women despise them. But one fact holds true - nobody wants to get their hands on some little ones. Until now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My favorite web novel, 'Everybody Loves Large Chests' by Exterminatus recently updated with a tentacle scene so I just had to write something. It can be found on RR (royalroad) and let's just say it contains a lot of adventuring, a crazy main lead and loads and loads of funny, messed up shit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other no-ranks just couldn’t understand. Who cared about glory and fame?! It was all about loot!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three Chapter Format (Excluding this one)  
> Chapter 0: Worldbuilding and General Set-Up 
> 
> Chapter 1: Chest Mimic. Associated Kinks: Soft Vore. Bondage. Monster/Tentacle Sex. Double Penetration. Spanking. 
> 
> Chapter 2: Save Crystal Mimic. Associated Kinks: Soft Vore. Bondage. Inflation. Breast Expansion. Belly Expansion. Monster/Tentacle Sex. 
> 
> Chapter 3: False Party Member Mimic. Associated Kinks: Shapeshifting. Monster Sex. Oviposition/Egg-Preg. Mindfuck. Spanking. Impregnation.

Jill stalked the party of adventurers, carefully side-eyeing them from the nook she knelt in. Her cheap secondhand shin-guards grinding into rock. Dirty white glove-wearing palms gripping the stone. In her usual heavy coating of dust and ash, she was near invisible hidden between the white ore and gritty grain of the dungeon’s stone tunnels. Her green eyes taunting, looking like out-of-place emeralds among the useless veins of common rock. She knew, but more importantly, the monsters knew.

And the adventurers just couldn’t seem to get it.

“Doing good! Looks like we have them on the ropes.” the party leader yelled. “Keep up the pace!”

How the monsters they found were distracted, careless. Absorbing the adventurers’ blows instead of fending them off. Their instincts telling them to go for the weakest in the room.

And so, they obeyed.

Running around the party leader who led the charge. Ducking under the swordsman who flanked him in combat. They ignored the healer, a priestess in nothing but white robes and little else. Even the mage, clad in only her academy uniform. Her pitiful squeak of surprise bouncing off the walls as the beasts ran straight between her legs and knocked her over.

Jill merely blinked, her eyes locking with the dumb unblinking pupils of a wyrm warrior.

The wyrm warrior was a common variety of armor beasts. Its scaly skin bronze. Stolen human armor rustier than her own. Monsters whose eggs or live brood nested on the remains of dead warriors. It is said that the monstrous young was raised on the lingering shrieks of the foolish fighter. Compelling them to take up wearing human garb and learn how to fight on two legs.

It broke from its pack-mates, looking quite a sight.

The Lower Central Bestiary didn’t do the bronze variant justice. A four-legged lizard, it chose to stand upright. Choosing the clumsy movement of a toddler over the swift speed of a normal wyrm. It bore its soft underbelly to the air, the hide much thinner around its stomach and back due to the lack of crawling on its belly.

For all its posturing, the wyrm warrior couldn’t use a blade right.

Its scabby ruddy-red tail wrapped around its dagger sword, the pointy end aimed for her. Brilliant.

Jill didn’t move. Jill didn’t blink.

She yawned teary-eyed into the air and pushed out her front, still very much hidden. Inciting the stupid thing to charge her in full earnest. The weakest in the room doing a move that could only make her weaker. The wyrm warrior couldn’t resist. It ran blindly towards her, eyes glistening, jagged maw open and ready to tear into her very being-

The mage shanked it in the back.

“Yippee!” the girl shouted, twirling around her gem staff as the sharp hidden knife retracted. “That leveled up my sneak attack. Hey Ardyn, Ardyn… Did you see that? I was all like, swoosh and it went whomp!”

“Yes we all saw that, Izzy. Good work.” the party leader, Ardyn replied. “But more monsters face us. Don’t get cocky.”

“Bwah!” the mage carried on. “Wasn’t I right about this place? The monsters here are easy. Level 30s should act better, right?”

Yeah, easy.

Jill yawned again. These particular heroes owed their success to the loot-lover in the hole. One Jill Adadice. The loot-lover inched her head further out the nook, marveling in the show of synchronized violence.

It was as much as one could expect from a team of professional monster-slayers. Clean and efficient.

They picked the rest of the wyrm warriors off, pushing the monsters against the wall. The dumb beasts still attempting to strike at the stone, at where Jill laid in disguise only a few feet above. Ardyn took the front, darting in and deflecting blows. A shieldman to his left. The other swordsman fighting right next to them. The priestess buffed and healed, adding spells like haste and protect to her party members. And Izzy fired off blizzard pulses, freezing the monsters in their tracks.

These useful idiots knew what they were doing! Way better than the last group of hero hopefuls.

Eeeh, she’s found the big score now!

Jill oohed and ahhed inside her nook, her grubby little fingers tingling. Hands making the grabbing motion. Ah, she could almost feel it in her palm. Loot. Treasure. Almost at if it was materializing right there! She wanted, no, she needed it so bad. Jill groaned. Loudly. And bit her lip to snuff it into silence.

Here it came. That wondrous, wonderwill, wonderful sound.

Clink! Clink! Clink! The sound of loot. Precious. Profitable. Perfect. Clink! Clink! Clink! The loot dropped from above the monsters, hitting the stony floor with a clunky thump. The magic of the dungeon forming them for the reward of the adventurers. Gah, it was the greatest sound in the world.

Ah, she couldn’t contain it.

Jill cupped her mouth, moaning and drooling. Fresh loot to pick and parse through always got her worked up. Jill’s tongue flicked across her grinning teeth. Her jaw uncomfortably wide and lips slurping up her excess glee. She rubbed the back of her head against the stone, desperate for some sort of friction to keep her mind and loot-lust in one place.

The other no-ranks just couldn’t understand. Who cared about glory and fame?! It was all about loot!

Jill pushed her bottom against the crevice, cursing and loving her disguise of the day. Beside the camouflage she wore, she was dressed as your average stupid rookie. Blonde childish pigtails done up in pricey rose-pink ribbons. The sort that said she cared more about color coordination and price numbers than protective gear. A pink armor mini-skirt that ended mid-thigh and long silky stockings that matched.

Silky stockings that were now torn because of her wanton grinding.

The sharper edges of the nook caught onto the thin fabric, rippling little oval-shape holes. Jill cringed on the inside. Another fifteen aulrians lost to her worthless lust. Every misstep she made led more money she had to dip into once she was out the dungeon.

Shockingly so, Jill’s dungeon thefts were pretty costly.

Costumes. Heath drinks. Mana potions. Holy water. Antidotes. Honing stones. Her fencer’s cut of her goods. The kingdom’s cut of her unregulated income. And not to mention all the money she poured into her chosen saint, Gilded Giaaia. The lady of good fortune and feasting. The saint did deliver by the way. Raising her heath and stamina beyond her miserable means. But paying to win was a hell onto itself.

She swore up and down that this would be the last time or that would be the last heist.

All nothing but pretty worded bullshit.

Jill rubbed against the rock, finding a protruding rock that was hard and smooth enough to grind on. She panted through her nose, the sound echoing a little more than she’d liked. “Do- Do you guys hear that?” It carried on the narrow walls, sending her perverted sounds to all of the dungeon to hear. Jill threw her lanky hips back, the sensation of her flesh meeting something so solid and firm just enough to carry her to a dry release.

You know, she had a good excuse. Being a no-rank adventurer.

No-ranks were forced to fight in the kingdom-regulated dungeons. Keeping down the pests’ numbers before they could make a nuisance of themselves. But being of no-rank, they didn’t get a drop of loot. The well-drained dungeons refusing to open its darker depths and better treasures to the pathetic and weak. And Jill just couldn’t stand it. Not allowed to take the junk the better adventurers left behind.

Where was the sense in that?! If those stronger didn’t want it, then the weaker should get it, right?

Wrong. The kingdom of Flown didn’t believe in that. They took every bit of loot that a higher rank adventurer left behind and shook down anyone tried to run off with loot contraband. Being the first to strike: didn’t count. Being the last to strike: didn’t count. Painfully stalking an over-leveled beast and tirelessly stabbing it to death: didn’t count. So if Jill couldn’t get the loot by normal ways, fuck em.

She’d put her life on the line, adventuring into wild dungeons and making out like a bandit.

Jill’s perky tush bounced up and down, the skirt flying up and bunching around her hips. Now looking more like a skimpy fantasy than anything one would wear outside. She lowered herself down, her hands and elbows flat on the ground. Her ass planted in the air, her plush cheeks spread around the rigid rock.

It was kinda embarrassing and humiliating if she tried to use words to describe her loot-lust.

Why couldn’t it be simple to understand?

All she wanted was shiny things to sell for more shiny things.

Jill dropped her head, rubbing her forehead into the stony white. Her hips trembling of their own accord. Her gaps and groans loud in her ears. She clenched her teeth. Not a sound. Not a whimper. She was almost, almost there-

“Hey,” the shieldman spoke, “Am I seeing things or did that wall move? It was closer before. I think.”

“I dunno, Geoffrey. Everything looks the same to me. Bland. Boring. Bland. Did I say bland? Yeah, bland.” Izzy replied. “I mean, yeah, that rock face kinda looks sunken in but who cares, it’s too tall to reach.”

“For mage girls like you, maybe.”

The sound of his metal-clad feet approached Jill’s perfectly ~~horny~~ normal hole.

Her head jerked up. Why now? Why did they have to get curious about the wall now? Who cared!? Jill quickly arranged herself in the kneeling position, hoping to the spirits that she didn’t sweat all of the dust off. Her female essence trickling down the back of her skirt, her panties wet and squelching.

“Huh! You guys see that. The rock face is back! It was gone and now it’s back.” Geoffrey paused. “I think.”

Izzy stuck her tongue out at him. Because, really, who gave a shit about a wall? Move on, shieldman!

“It looks the same to me, G-man.” Ardyn said, sheathing his sword. The other party members stood around the room, leaning against the walls. They dug into their supplies, drinking and patching bleeds that the priestess couldn’t cure from the affliction curse this dungeon carried.

“It always looks the same.” Geoffrey muttered. “And then there are bats. Flying pests that rush out of a hole and ruin a perfectly good dungeon run. They come, they poison. We never have the right drinks and then we have to bolt. A waste. I imagine if I caught the little buggers before they came out, we’d be alright.”

“Until the next room. Don’t you know how a dungeon works? There’s no lame-o flying types here. Adventure post outside said so. Duuuhhhh.” Izzy said, blowing a raspberry. “Ardyn, this man is stupid. You said, we’d get used to him. Well, I haven’t. He’s dumb. I vote to replace him. I’m sure Ori and Kat agree with me.”

“All wise men are dumb once.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Ardyn!”

Geoffrey stood against Jill’s wall and threw up a mighty arm. Crap. Jill slowed her breathing, hoping the shieldman would hurry with his inspection and move on. And sadly, she wasn’t lucky on that part.

“The stone’s warm. Might be life on the other side.”

The brute felt her up, his large clumsy hand spreading across the soft swell of her puny breasts. His meaty fingers brushed against the tops of her flat mounds. Tormenting her flustered flesh. Ah… Ah…! Jill groaned in her mouth, teeth digging into her lip. Don’t make a sound. Don’t make a sound! His palm curled, his rough nails scraping against the pink blouse. The sick sensation traveling straight through the paper-like cloth.

Oh, why couldn’t he have groped the rock face right next to her!

Jill supposed that this was her fault. She’d gotten careless just like the monsters in the dungeon. It was so easy to fall into a routine. Live outside a profitable dungeon. Follow the next band of adventurers in. Hide in the many nooks and crannies until they killed the monsters. Retrieve her cut of the loot. Rinse and repeat. There was no reason why she had to be in the same exact room as the adventurers.

But of course, she couldn’t help herself when it came to watching, to seeing the loot drop.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

It was her absolute weakness.

And as a twenty-three year old woman, it was quite depressing to admit that this was the most physical contact she’s gotten in five years. Mind you, it wasn’t for lack of trying. Paying the saint Giaaia as much as Jill does -thousands of aulrians holy shit-, led to the no-rank getting a godly boon for her pure-hearted pursuit. _The Virgin Vestalis_. Which, as the name implies, protected her purity from all darker intentions. Sex included. Sex especially. Sex… Sex… Sex…

No wonder she’s been so horny for treasure, being cock-blocked by a fucking saint!

Geoffrey squeezed her breast, fingers pinching her hardened nipple. Damn him. Damn everything. The brute yanked on her soft flesh. The white skin reddening in arousal and pain. Mostly pain because Geoffrey wouldn’t know how to touch a woman’s breast if it hit him on the upside of his peanut-shaped head. He went to the other one. Tossing her pliant mound around his searching fingers.

“I think this might be a false wall.” Geoffrey announced, his breath huskier than it should have been. Brown eyes dark. “I’ve found a knob.” That’s her nipple, you asshole! “Maybe two. I think.”

As much as the brute said “I think.” maybe he should actually use his head and move on!

A curl of saint magic rubbed against Jill’s forehead before dropping down and hitting Geoffrey.

_“This wall is so warm and soft…”_

His perverted thoughts entered the air.

_“It reminds me of the time I once bumped into Kat changing her priestess robes. Her breasts were even softer, warmer. So big and fat and full. Spirits, her tits! I swear she taunts me with them. Letting them bounce around without a bra. Nay, what’s worse is that she does it without underwear! Couldn’t I just walk up behind her and pull up her robes? Would she stop me? Bet she’d beg for it. Fat pretty tits.”_

_“Me fucking her like the virgin whore she is!”_

“Geoffrey!” Kat sputtered. “How could you say such things about me! I’m not a whore!”

Geoffrey dropped his hands. Finally. He turned to face his accusations.

“I didn’t mean to say that. But you know what, I meant it. Every last word.” he said, voice rising. “ _It’s the truth, innit!_ I’ve seen you with Ardyn. What’s he have that I don’t? Pretty hair. Thin as a stick. I think you’ve been deprived of a _real_ man, Kat. A whore like you shouldn’t be so stuck-up!”

“I’m not a whore because I don’t want to sleep with you!”

Izzy gasped and pointed at Kat.

“What does Geoffrey mean, Ardyn? Why would you sleep with Kat when you’re with me!”

“It was a mistake.”

“Was it a mistake three times last night?” Geoffrey said, stomping forward. “You thought you two were clever. Sneaking off from the camp to get your little _fuck_ in. They’ve been doing it since we left the capital.”

“You’ve been fucking that _whore!?”_

“Don’t call her a whore, Izzy!” Ardyn shouted. The first time he’d ever raised his voice. Wow. Looks like there might be some feelings involved. “You’re just- You couldn’t understand. Kathrine was there for me. It just got a little out of hand but that doesn’t give you the right to insult her. ”

“Shut up, all of you.” Ori entered the fray. “It’s the dungeon doing this. Keep your petty complaints in your heads until we leave. Don’t you all agree?”

There was a murmur from the offended parties.

“I said, don't you all agree?”

They answered louder.

“Good, let’s move the fuck on.”

The fighting quieted down and the adventurers picked through the remains.

Kat, apparently also serving as the party’s cook, studied the wyrm corpses and took what parts that could eaten. Izzy picked out the eyes. Probably intending to use them in potion brewing. She picked out the large mana shards forming from the beasts’ blood, hiding them within her long sleeves. They glowed in unison with the other shards that was sown in on that big wizardly hat she was sporting.

And the rest ignored the loot.

Only needing raw fighting experience to feed their weapons and skills.

“Slut. Slut. Slut.” Izzy chanted under her breath. “Slut. Slut. Slut.”

Kat shot her a reproachful look.

“You don’t own Ardyn just because he was your childhood friend. He can make his own choices.”

“He can also fuck a slut.”

Kat frowned, obviously hurt, before she scowled.

“At least, I didn’t cry when he put it in me. Who does that other than stupid little girls? You hurt him, you know. He thought he did something wrong all this time and it was you. You couldn’t handle it.”

“H-He told you that!” Izzy shouted. “It wasn’t for sluts to know. Ardyn! Ardyn, how could you?”

Ardyn glared at Kat and oddly enough, kept his mouth shut. Oh ho, things just got interesting.

As soon as the priestess finished packing away the monster meat, the group was off. Marching down the hall and vanishing out of sight. Izzy cried the whole way, sobbing into her sleeves. “I wasn’t ready. It’s not fair. I just wasn’t ready, Ardyn! How could you?” They were talking too, their voices lingering like ghosts in these narrow halls, but Jill tuned them out. It was better that way.

She wouldn’t want her mind to start wandering and thinking she was actually apart of their group.

A treasure-pawning zero.

Jill crept out her nook, dust and pebbles clinging to her long blonde curls.

The twin-tailed pigtails a mistake.

It was, of course, a part of her look. Naive rookie adventurer.

Not, you know, a zero who’s cheating the ranking system by (willfully) profiting from the work of others (without proper taxation). If the folks in charge of the Dungeon Clearing Committee found out what she was doing, she’d get slapped with a fine, her adventurer badge blackballed and she’d be forced into community service according to how much she’d made off her stolen goods.

Years’ worth of hard time.

Jill shook out her yellow locks, combing through them for snags or anything that implied she’d been here longer than fifteen minutes. Any longer and she would be considered suspicious.

A real rookie would have turned tail an hour ago.

There was a reason why the ranking system existed in the first place besides being a pain in Jill’s ass. It was to gauge the human body’s tolerance to foul magicks from another era. The stuff that gave birth to monsters and fed dungeon cores. These same wicked energies could and would drain a human’s lifeforce in many ways. Spawning monsters. Releasing poison gas. Inciting fear and hatred.

Even the most ignorant and untrained civilian could sense it.

The unsettling blood lust. The dull drone of the corrupted earth. A horror beyond all perception and possibility of the now watching and waiting to have at your soul. To anyone who gave a shit about their afterlife, and their current life, this was a scary thought.

But she wasn’t one of them. Fortune favors the bold.

Jill kicked at a rock.

Or was it, fortune favors fortune? One of them had to be the right one.

She kicked at another one, likely pissing the dungeon core in charge. The gas that poured out of its cracks and holes rampted up. Jill snorted. This particular dungeon’s gimmick was paranoia. The classic kind. Nothing is safe. No one can be trusted. Gray-ish smog lowering visibility and inciting terrible thoughts about the company you kept.

What company? What trust?

Jill crept around the corners, checking out the sight. No heroes. No roaming monsters. She was good to go. Jill went back to her nook and hauled it out, a large white cloth bag of loot. The busting bag clinking as she dragged along the dirt-made ground. She cackled to herself. The bag was so heavy, so full. Imaginary aulrian coins danced between her eyes.

The dungeon really hated her, spewing out smog to fill up the room.

Jill fanned what came her way and turned on the little glass lamp attached to her holster. The charm-inscribed lamp dispelling the magic-made smokescreen. The dungeon could gas her all it wanted. It wouldn’t make a difference. Jill knew the tricks of most wild dungeons.

She had it caught within its blind spot.

Natural-born monsters, the ones who roamed the dungeon’s hall were often in short supply. They tended to be the first to die in an encounter. A necessary loss to determine the strength of the humans that entered its domain. But magic-made monsters, pre-spawned in rooms and boss chambers, came with so many drawbacks that you couldn’t believe once you knew the truth.

Fact 1: Dungeons can’t respawn mana monsters until you, the invader, has left the current room.

Fact 2: Mana monsters automatically reset themselves and their strength levels according to the combined strength of the invaders in the room. Something that can be dramatically thrown out of whack if, say, a rank zero was among them.

Fact 3: Boss chambers were the exception to the rule. The monster inside have the base levels of all the monsters within the dungeon times 10. If they were all level 40s, the boss monster would be a level 59. But if you killed all the natural-born monsters and reset all of the mana monsters, that oh so great number would drop into the negative. 59 meet 5.9!

Honestly, she should be getting a helper’s fee for all the adventurers she’d helped over the years. The idiots would have died, otherwise.

Jill clutched her hands together and prayed, " _Saint Giaaia, please show me the way!_ "

Her status screen popped up.

> Jillira Adadice
> 
> [LVL]: 0
> 
> [RACE]: Human
> 
> [GENDER]: Female
> 
> [CLASS]: Adventurer
> 
> [???]: The Virgin Vestalis
> 
> [HP]: 1000 (+7.5/sec)
> 
> [MP]: 7

 

Jill couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of her stats. A no-rank with 1000 HP? The saints must be crazy. It was all thanks to the Virgin Vestalis boon and all the sweet cold cash she dumped into raising her HP stat.

Clearly, the best one to focus on, bar none.

What good was strength if you bleed to death in a dungeon? What could defense do if you starved alone? Magic couldn’t cure all injuries. Speed didn’t mean shit trapped in a maze.

Cowards lived to see the next day. Cowards carried home the profits.

If people really listened to the stories, they’d know the truth. Villains were vanquished. Heroes vanished from history. But you know who had it all: The Ruler! The queen got to sit back and profit from the wars and the battling. Heroes always needed equipment. Villains needed food and land.

Truly, the queen was the smartest, wisest and riches of them all. And if she lost her husband in the crossfire, oh well.

Jill concentrated, willing the saint’s scan of her information to switch to her other stats.

> [Class Stats]
> 
> Adventurer Rank: 0
> 
> Adventurer Perks: 0
> 
> Adventurer Skills: 0
> 
> Universal Rank of All Time: -000000001

...

> [Base Stats]
> 
> [STR]: 1  
> 
> [DEF]: 1
> 
> [INT]: 1    
> 
> [AGI]: 1 (+75)
> 
> [CHR]: 1 (+75)
> 
> [WIS]: 1 (+75)
> 
> [LCK]: 1 (+75)
> 
> [END]: 1

 

Her base stats were really terrible, even with the Vestalis bonus, but what more could you expect?

Jill walked over to the monster corpse and knelt down, pulling out a makeshift leather roll of sharp tools from her holster. “Wyrm Hide- 7 aulrians. Wyrm Bone- 3 aulrians. I could have gotten so much money off the eyes but whiners can’t be wizards.” Jill stored their armor as scrap within her bag. A few blacksmiths might give her a bargain deal for it anyhow. Wyrm warriors tended to carry armor of a decent grade. Rusted but still something that could melted down and remade into something useful again. “1 aulrian, 2 aulrian, 3.”

The loot-lover busied herself with her work.

“If I add the digit here and take out my cut, I’ve made 753 aulrians today. Not bad for a slow day.”

Jill hummed to herself, lifting up the organized remains and stuffing them into her bag. “I wonder how I’m going to treat myself today. One night at the fanciest hotel I can afford or two. Hehehe, I’m moderately rich!”

“Who’s moderately rich?”

“I am. I am-” Jill bragged before turning to look over her shoulder because, hey, that wasn’t her voice.

“So you’re the richest adventurer in this dungeon? I’m afraid, you’re mistaken. Babe, I am.”

“I’m gonna have to say,” Jill said, unsheathing her blade, “do you take cash or credit? I have to warn you though, I can only pay with steel.”


End file.
